


All is Fair in Love and War

by tjnstlouismo



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Cain is horrible., Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, M/M, Non-Consensual Violence, Rape, graphic war death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjnstlouismo/pseuds/tjnstlouismo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First encounter with the Colteron's. Abel tries to find his place.</p><p> </p><p>Everything belongs to Hamlet Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All is Fair in Love and War

Abel sulked, curled on his side towards the wall far away from Cain as he could get. He laid at the very edge of the thin mattress's that took up the bulk of the floor space. There was nowhere to walk and more than once Abel had tripped over them as he tried to get from one end of the tiny cubicle to the other. They had argued about that too, until he gave up in exasperation. Arguing with Cain was a waste of time. The surly fighter was never logical. Worse, if he knew it was something Abel wanted; he just dug in further and held his ground until Abel gave up in frustration. Cain knew him well enough to infuriate Abel. Navigators were trained at the Academy that it was easy to control fighters, as they were brawn, not brain. All you had to do was out think them.  Obviously, the idiot that came up with that never met _his_ fighter.

Sometimes he hated him. Sometimes he hated himself.

Abel was so bone weary that he couldn't relax enough to sleep. He felt wired, his eyelids twitching, the rush of his pulse in his ears like the waves on an ocean. He was desperate for sleep, but couldn't stop thinking long enough to let his exhaustion take over and let his brain rest for a while. Cook and Keeler were demanding results at a frantic pace. They were all fraught to find the right configurations, the right strategies, the right specs that would allow some of them to survive what would come at them when they confronted the 'Teron's.

Abel blew out his lips, aggravated. What the fuck was he thinking when he spoke up and volunteered death and drug Cain down this perilous path with him? Had he confused the reality of war with some Saturday morning cartoon where the good guys always win and no one bleeds?

That magical thinking dissolved into fairy dust the first time he watched a Navie bleed out in front of him as the rescue team pulled the remaining top half of his body from his crushed starfighter. The fighter laid on the deck and screamed _"mama!"_ over and over again through a raw gash in the bloody lump where his face had been. Abel had run but not fast enough and vomited unceremoniously across the deck. Cain had kicked at him, hauled him up by the collar then forced him off the deck. He didn't know which was worse, the horror left dying on the deck or Cain screaming at him, "Knock that shit off, you fucking pansy, you're the one who wanted to be the fucking hero!"

Cain had shoved him into the lift and slapped him hard enough to split his lip at the scar Cain had marked him with. He dragged him down the hall to their quarters as he cursed at Abel in his colony born Russian. Abel couldn't catch his breath as Cain ripped his clothes off, threw him into the shower, held him under the hot stinging water as he shook him like a cat at the scruff of his neck. When Cain pulled him out of the shower by his hair, Abel ineffectually swung at him. Cain easily overpowered him, dropped him onto the mattress on his stomach. When Cain viciously knocked his legs apart, hauled his hips up, mounted him in one motion to the hilt, Abel had screamed in white-hot pain. Cain held him down with a powerful arm across his upper back as he pumped into him; knocking Abel's breath out with each thrust. He continued to punish Abel and ground his cock violently into Abel until he shuttered and came hard. Cain had pulled himself out, wiped his cum and Abel's blood off his cock with Abel's ruined shirt then threw himself down on his back on the mattress.

Cain had let him moan and weep for a while then forced Abel into his arms, held him tight to his chest until Abel calmed. Cain never said another word about it; never apologized; never tried to make it right as if it was his right to use his cock as a weapon to punish Abel's weakness. The only acknowledgement Abel got was for the next few nights Cain's was gentle, his rough hands petted Abel's hair as he used Abel's mouth instead of his torn ass.

Abel knew he should have filed an assault charge; knew he should have gone to sickbay and reported Cain; knew he should have demanded a transfer to another fighter. Sometimes he wasn't so logical either.

The days rolled into weeks, the weeks into a month, then another and now they were right on top of Colteron space. The Blue Team was sent out and came back with nothing. The Red Team, their team, had taken their turn and came back with nothing. The Blue Team rotated out again and some came back shot up to hell. Others didn't come back at all. This time Abel didn't puke until he was in the privacy of their head. This time Cain held back his hair and rubbed at his back. This time Cain laid him down in their little nest. This time he covered Abel with his strength; weighed him down until he pushed Abel's legs up, opened him tenderly with bottled slickness. As he gazed into Abel's eyes, Cain slid his cock smoothly past the ring of muscle at his entrance then moved steadily into Abel until they were one being. This time Abel moved his hands to Cain's hips and pulled him closer. He firmly held Cain in place between his legs; drawing him as close as he could. This time, he cried out as he came and Cain slid easily across his stomach to reach his mouth. After, drained, they both slept.

But that was several nights ago, the dead had been shipped home to their graves or their ashes scattered into the space. Cain was being a son of a bitch again and smoked lazily while he looked at bad porn on Abel's tablet and made filthy suggestions to him. When Abel ignored him, he got cruel and turned the disgusting suggestions about Deimos, then Ethos just be an even bigger bastard. Abel had turned away from him, trying to ignore him, trying not to cry, again.

Cain left him alone for a while, then cursed and threw the tablet aside. Abel felt the mattress move when Cain got up and started rummaging through a bottom drawer in the ridiculously small chest that they were both supposed to share. He could hear Cain as he tore through the contents of the drawer. He held his breath and hoped that it wasn't for some forgotten sex toy that Cain would torment Abel with for the rest of the evening.

However, Cain climbed back in bed and didn't touch him. Abel could hear something he didn't recognize, but resisted the urge to turn over and find out.

"Hey princess, turn over here." Abel stayed where he was until Cain crawled over to him, brought his mouth down to the back of Abel’s neck and flooded it with hot breath. Abel’s, well trained cock, responded. When Cain licked the same spot on his neck, he gave up and turned over. Cain smirked, so sure of himself and sat back on his knees.

"Come on, baby, let’s play a game." Cain grinned, crawled back to his side. "Best out of ten gets a blow job!" Abel looked over where Cain was sitting and there in front of him was a black and red checkerboard set up to play.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Abel asked incredulously. "Where did you get that?"

"Tch, don't worry about where I got it, do you want to fucking play?" Cain sneered at him. "Or are you a fucking pussy?"

Abel haughtily answered as he narrowed his eyes and looked down his nose at Cain. "Afraid of you? Please. I was captain of the Chess Club all through high school."

Cain snickered. "You are a _serious_ pansy aren't you, Princess?"

Abel reached over and punched him in the arm. "This _pansy_ is going to clean your fucking clock!"

Cain snorted, grabbed Abel's fist then yanked him forward and smacked a wet kiss on Abel's lips. "Ok, _Mr. Captain of the Chess Club,_ let's fucking see what you can do!"

They played for hours, way past ten games, bantered back and forth as if they were just guy friends hanging out. They laughed at each other and viciously insulted each others playing skills. Eventually as they got a little drunk on the battery acid Cain called Vodka, they insulted each other’s sexual prowess until Abel dumped the board over the edge of the mattress and lunged at Cain covering his body with his as he forced his tongue into Cain's warm mouth.

Neither of them knew what time it was when the Red Alert alarms blasted them into consciousness. For the first seconds they had to untangle their limbs from each other when they finally fell into a well-sated sleep. Cain sprung up and threw Abel's flight suit to him then slipped into his. It was all training now as they worked in tandem. Abel closed up his suit and slid their door open as Cain ran past him towards the ladders to the flight deck. They burst, one after the other, onto the deck, loped across it and lowered themselves into the Reliant. Abel went through the flight check, Cain responding "check" as Abel powered up and Cain readied his guns.

As the Red Team cleared the docking bay and banked into the blackness, Abel could hear Cain's whisper in his ear as he called out to him. "Hey princess," Cain’s voice reached into the depths of him; all smooth black satin. "Bring us back, and I'll show you something nice."


End file.
